


The Language of Angels

by monicawoe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 06-07 Hiatus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monicawoe/pseuds/monicawoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for ohsam, for the prompt:<br/>"Post 6x22. Sometimes Sam's breaks aren't too disasterous, sometimes they're catastrophic. He'll scream and tremble and speak only enochian. Desperate to help, Dean, haltingly, learns some broken Enochian words so he can try to reach his brother."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Language of Angels

  
They'd been having a pretty good run of luck, all things considered. 

Earlier tonight they'd finished an easy hunt-- just a regular salt and burn, not a scratch on either of them, but Sam couldn't stop staring at the fire. He stood, statue-still, even after Dean yelled his name, and shook his shoulder. Dean had to shove Sam  _hard_  to get him to move away from the burning grave. Sam blinked at Dean a few times, and followed him silently back to the Impala.

They got back to the motel, and Dean debated on whether or not he should go take a shower. He decided against it because Sam still hadn't said a word since the fire. He asked Sam what he wanted for dinner, and when he couldn't understand the answer, turned and walked closer to his brother. 

Sam was rocking back and forth and whispering something Dean couldn't quite make out. "Sammy?" he asked, but Sam didn't stop his rhythmic motion and he didn't stop his litany, whatever it was. Dean leaned closer until he finally understood what Sam was saying. "Beetohem paheedeh."

\---------

Twenty minutes later, nothing's changed. Sam is still whispering the same thing, over and over. Dean's gone through more than a dozen of Sam's worse episodes by now, but he's never seen Sam like this. Early on, when one of Sam's memories overwhelmed him he'd scream and thrash at anything and everything around him. That was scary, but this-- this quiet agony is _terrifying_. Dean is prepared though, he was afraid things would get worse. In their lives, things usually get worse.

Sam is still sitting at the edge of the bed, but he's drawn his legs up onto the edge, and dropped his head between his knees. It makes him look small-- so much smaller than his giant frame should allow. Dean kneels down next to the foot of Sam's bed so he can catch his gaze. He looks Sam in the eyes, and says quietly, but loud enough that he's sure Sam hears him, "Zod--" Dean swallows, "Zod keh hah keh zod."  _What is past, is past."_

Sam stops whispering and locks eyes with Dean. He twists his head to the side and grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. "Beetohem. Ee alpargeh paheedeh." Sam starts trembling again, and his feet start up a rocking motion again. "Paheedeh." Sam repeats again, and again and again.

Dean thinks for a moment, making sure he remembers the words right, "Solpeth, siasch."  _Listen, brother._  "Gehchis geh ee alpargeh."  _You are not burning._  "Gehchis ah ohleh."  _You are with me._

Sam stops whispering and stares at Dean again. He looks even more frightened. "Ah siasch ee alpargeh. Ar geh. Ar geh Ar geh." Sam shuts his eyes again, brings his arms up to circle his legs and buries his head between his knees.

 _'My brother is burning,' he thinks I'm there with him._  Dean feels a tear slip down his cheek, but he keeps going, "Ar geh. Ar geh ee alpargeh."  _No one is burning._  "Zodeerah kerseh. Zodeerah kerseh siasch."  _I'm here._  "Zodeerah kerseh, Sammy. Gehchis ah ohleh."  _You're with me._

Sam lifts his head up slowly, and says, "Dean?"

  
  
  



End file.
